Encountering the Summer of the Stranger

Author: Yamada Taichi
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2003-08-01
Features: After breaking up with my wife, the apartment in the building that was originally intended for my studio became my residence. My profession is writing TV drama scripts. For most of the time, I was alone in the room. Not long ago, there was a woman who often came, but when I was in the process of breaking up with my wife, she unexpectedly left me. That's fine. Divorce has already consumed too much of my emotions. Although interacting with others brings joy, for now, I no longer need it. After three weeks alone, I realized how incredibly quiet the night in the apartment building was—so quiet that it was almost excessive. That said, it wasn’t like being in the mountains. Not only that, but this six-story apartment building also faces the Tokyo Loop Line highway, with traffic flowing non-stop, 24 hours a day. At first, I couldn’t sleep at all due to the noise of the cars. Lying in bed, every time I heard the sound of large trucks—those that specifically travel in the dead of night—coming closer and closer, I felt I couldn’t breathe. A hundred meters ahead, there was a traffic light. Sometimes, it would be completely silent for a moment, but then, even sharper engine noises would erupt, followed by a continuous roar that made my heart race, and suddenly I’d feel as if I were about to suffocate. Gasping for breath, I’d jump out of bed. After about ten days, I finally got used to it. When I used it as a studio, there were several times when I wanted to stay overnight here, but back then, I always felt it was impossible to sleep here. But after the divorce, all my money was spent, and with no funds to move, I had no choice but to stay here—and yet, I got used to this place! The roar faded into the depths of my consciousness, and the sound of the air conditioner also receded. Sometimes, when I woke up, I could only hear the ticking of the second hand of the wall clock. Next, I started to have this feeling that the quiet was too excessive. Although I had this feeling, I had no idea where I was. One night in mid-July, for the first time, I felt the quiet was too excessive. It was already past 11, and I was sitting in front of my desk when suddenly, a chill shot up my back, as if I were hanging alone in the dark halfway in the air. "Too quiet." For a moment, I forced myself to continue writing, picked up the dictionary, and double-checked the word I wasn’t sure about. However, I realized that for these past few days, whenever it got dark, that subconscious feeling of unease would subtly appear. I paused my hand and stood up to my ears. I listened for other sounds amidst the noise of the cars, but I heard nothing.